This morning we took the ferry to Zanzibar, an island about 30 miles offshore, with a fascinating history as the center of trade on the East African coast.
Ferry to Zanzibar
We took a tuk-tuk to the ferry terminal, where we were greeted immediately by a barrage of “helpful” men. In the hustle we were shuttled into a tiny office, where we paid for what we thought was a fast boat that would make the trip in two hours. I made sure we paid for “VIP Class” which cost $5 extra but got us upstairs with the air conditioning and comfortable faux-leather couches. Four hours later, after we had watched a few Tanzanian tv shows and half of the mid-2000s remake of the Italian Job, I was convinced we had been tricked. No matter, we still got there in comfort, and with plenty of time in the evening.
Dhow Palace hotel
After we arrived in Stone Town, the tout barrage began again. Ruth had studied the map and was determined to find our hotel in the warren of small pedestrian streets. The taxi drivers left us alone after we passed through their ranks, but one persistent guy followed us for ten minutes asking us for the name of our hotel. After we made two or three turns, he told us that “only expensive hotels are that way.” Ruth navigated to hotel flawlessly while I tried to keep dismissing the assistance, until we rounded a corner, and there was the Dhow Palace. The doorman asked if we had any help, and on Ruth’s assertion that we had navigated independently, shooed the interloper away.
Sunset Bar
It’s a magnificent hotel in a converted mansion originally built in 1559. It’s been upgraded since then, with three floors of exceptionally decorated rooms and a pleasant pool in the courtyard. We had dinner across the street at Africa House, which was the former social club of the British colonials. Their Sunset Bar is the place to be as the sun slips into the ocean, with a drink in hand.
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